


We Work In the Darkness

by wraith17



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraith17/pseuds/wraith17
Summary: Assassins and Templars have been at war for centuries, but now the hunter has become the hunted.





	We Work In the Darkness

_ January 22nd, 1868 _

Hurried footfalls echo down the sodden and filthy alleyway, the harsh panting wheeze of a man, his breath turning to frost and vanishing in the cold fog of the rainy night. His white slippers are slick and stained with mud and shit, yet he does not pause in his flight to curse or bemoan as many a citizen of the Queen’s England would for there is another close on his heels.

A larger man than he bears down in an inky black leather coat, the cowl of an assassin over his head and flashes of red and silver steel the only indication that he is no ghost in the night but a man of flesh and blood, with the grim demeanour of one who is just doing a job as mundane to him as penning his own name is for the Ghost of London.

_ Crack! _

A mist of brick and mortar spits into Henry’s eyes as he ducks a bullet narrowly missing his head, swerving he races down another alleyway, his blood pounding in his ears as he hopes beyond all hope that his pursuers will not catch up with him before he reaches the end of the alleyway and the two Whitechapel Clinkers he sees taking shelter from the rain. 

Hope burns bright and true, the two Clinkers turn at the noise he makes, one opening his mouth to shout or question before a small cloaked figure pounces upon them, she is quick and ruthless and the two die gurgling on their own blood from the twin punctures of a hidden blade. The woman, for he can now see it is a her in the dim lamplight, grins wolfishly at him, white teeth bared in a frenzied joy of the hunt.

Lashing out at her, he throws a smoke grenade at the woman’s head, she blocks it with a speed that Henry has not seen before, but the bomb explodes regardless and a heavy cloud buys Henry the precious few seconds he needs to get around her. A sounds more horrifying than a scream of rage reaches his ears and chills him to his very core reaches his ears - a woman’s laughter, melodious and beautiful, she is playing with him. 

An arm swings out in front of him, winding him as he slams into it and lands heavily on the ground, a pain radiating out from his sternum and back. Henry grits his teeth and looks down at the blood blooming on his robes from his stomach, can feel where the blade has undoubtedly killed him, and then up at his murderer. 

The man retracts his hidden blade, lifting his hands to lower his hood, his secret will be kept by the dead, revealing a face Henry knows well and when he looks for it, he recognises a templar cross hanging from the man’s neck, it can only be the Grand Master himself - Crawford Starrick.

“Well done, cousin.” The woman has now joined the pair, her own hood already removed as she prowls over to the man’s side, her own templar cross showing now he can see her face; a cold and beautiful smile lights up her fair face, dark hair and eyes with the soul to match boring into his, she can only be Pearl Attaway, the transportation tycoon and lesser known as the other half of the Twin Hunters of London that have kept the city free of assassins for the last sixteen years. “I thought you were never going to catch up to this fool - Henry Green, Jayadeep Mir, the Ghost of London,” She laughs once more. “Pity, I hoped for more of a challenge, not a weak, simpering flower.”

“Must you play with him, cousin, it is most unbecom-”

_ Smack!  _

Attaway lashes out with her leg, sweeping Starrick off his feet as she rises fluidly and plants a heel on his chest.

“Say it again, I dare you.” She seethes, pressing down with her foot hard before getting off and kneeling down by Henry’s side once more, swiping a white handkerchief in the pool of blood on Henry’s stomach. 

Starrick stands once more, brushing himself off with a scowl and tosses a templar cross onto Henry’s chest. “Finish him off.”

“Goodbye assassin.” Attaway hisses and plunges her hidden blade into the soft skin of Henry’s neck, severing the artery. “London is ours, I do hope whoever they send after you will be more fun.” She smiles and straightens, pulling her hood back into place.

“Come to the meeting, cousin.” Starrick says before she leaves. “We need to coordinate with the others-.”

“The others,” Attaway laughs cruelly, “are inferior to me and you know it. I would not be here if it wasn’t true so spare me, cousin, and inform me when my next target arrives.”

She raises her arm, rope launcher deploying from her gauntlet and she is pulled to the rooftops, her cousin quickly losing sight of her despite his own keen vision. Starrick shakes his head, turns and runs into the fog, leaving nothing behind save the message for the Brotherhood.

_ Come and get us. _


End file.
